A Tale of Misfortune, Tradegy, and Candy
by DarkMindedFool
Summary: The Land of Oo is shrouded in a mysterious darkness of unknown deaths, unknown murderers, and a whole lot more. OC's lurk around every corner. Will write more if I get any reviews, good or bad. Some of the chapters aren't finished, because I am writing them separately.
1. Finn I

FINN

The day was beginning to warm up. Good thing too, Finn thought. Maybe we'll be able to swim today after all. The day had began cold, damp and foggy, but the sun was coming up and the fog was thinning out.

Jake and Finn had been wandering the beach all morning after they found a spot where some old weapons were buried. They had dug them up, most of them made of gold, silver, even sometimes gemstone.

"Hey Jake, check it. It says if I read the inscription on this sword, it sets on fire." Finn held out a heavy golden sword, pointing the tip down. Jake walked up to him, sniffing it.

"Try reading it."

"Okay, here goes nothing... you are... a really stupid... sword?" The sword exploded into flames, even the hilt. Finn screamed. "AHHHHHHH!"

"PUT IT DOWN!" Jake screamed. Finn tossed it away, the sword stabbing into the wet sand, putting it out with a sizzle.

"Whew," Finn sighed. "I feel bad for whoever used that sword."

Jake laughed. "Bet we can find he guy who owned it. Just find one with a melted hand."

"Nah man, I'm gettin' kinda bored searching through this junk."

"Yeah, me too."

They both looked around at the beach, junk stabbed into the sand all along the coast. Jake gasped. "Look over there!" He gasped in awe. Finn traced his eyes to see what he was staring at.

It was a huge ship, off in the distance, stabbed into an even bigger rock. The waves were delicately splashing against it, and they could see loot coming out the hole in the side.

"Let's go man! Who knows what kind of loot could be in there." Finn called to Jake, running towards the water.

"Dude I thought you didn't like the ocean. Like deathly afraid, remember?"

"Nah man, Billy's ghost taught me how to get over my fear."

Jake stared for a moment. "Well that makes sense." They both swam to the ship, Jake turning his arm into a row, and his body into a boat. Finn had tied to crawl in, but Jake pushed him off. "My boat!"

Finn laughed. "Fine. That one can be mine." He pointed to the ship as they paddled closer and closer.

He swam up to the edge of the rock, and pulled himself up onto it. He observed the ship. It was black. All black. Sort of creepy actually. Black sails, black flag, black... wood? The ship wasn't painted, the wood was black. When Jake saw, he frowned.

"This is one creepy boat, man."

"Tell me ab-" Finn caught something glimmer in the corner of his eye. He looked towards where he spotted it. It was coming from the hole in the boat. He waved Jake over to him, and went inside.

It was damp. Cozy, but damp. Finn looked around, still searching for the glimmering object. The ship was tilted, so he kept slipping. Jake had to catch him a few times.

Then Finn saw it. A sword... just a regular, ordinary sword. It was a dull grey, with nothing special on the hilt. "Bummer," Jake said.

Finn messed his face up. "Well we might as well take it, I mean we didn't come here for nothi- oooOOOOAAAAAHHH!"

A hand was connected to the sword, and so was a person. It stood up as Finn tried to grab it. Finn and Jake jumped, almost flying backwards out of the boat. It moaned.

The creature stopped, and sat, holding its head. It struggled not to slide down the slanted, wet floor. "Where..." It was large, at least twice as tall as Finn, and garbed in grey rags, with a grey cloak. His head was covered with a hood and his face was a circular, plain white mask with two black eyes.

Finn and Jake sat at the opening, staring at him blankly for a moment, then Finn spoke up. "You're in the land of Oo, ruled by Princess Bubblegum. Who are you? Or what are you...?"

It moaned again. "I am..." He looked around, as if he'd dropped his name somewhere. He stared at the walls of the inside of the ship. "Black wood...? My name is... Blackwood."

Jake squinted. "Man, that aint your name. You just made that up."

The creature stared blankly at Jake. "I don't know my true name," It's voice was raspy and quiet, almost ghostly.

"I seem to have forgotten." It shrugged. "I suppose it must not have been that important." He slid skillfully towards them, gliding, sword still in hand. Jake growled. It stopped a couple feet away from them. "You say this land has a princess? Do you serve her?"

"Yeah, sometimes. Most of the time though me and Jake do out own thing." Finn said.

Jake shrugged. "Yeah, I wouldn't really call it serve so much as just helping her out with crazy biz."

Blackwood knelt before them, placing his sword at their feet, sideways. "I wish to see your princess. I am alone and forgotten; I do not know who I am. But while I search for myself I believe it in my best interest to serve the monarch of this land." He stood back up, sheathing his sword in a leather scabbard that hung inside his cloak.

"Alright man, sounds good. We need to make a few stops on the way though. We promised to do some things for a couple of people, then we can head to the Candy Kingdom." Finn explained.

Jake stretched, grabbing Finn and Blackwood. "Speakin' of which, we should get going, we wasted a lot of time." He streched, holding them as he turned into a boat. His arms were paddles and they sailed back to the shore with their new companion.


	2. Archibald I

ARCHIBALD

"What the fuck do you think I pay you for, pissin'? Get me beer!" He tossed am empty cup at Archiblald, the remaining contents of what was once beer flung onto him. He dodged it, falling onto the ground.

He stood up, the cackling and howling laughter rising up around him. Would've been cleaner to be hit by the spit, rather than fall to the floor. He looked at his suit, covered in meat grease and old beer and spit.

Lord Hugo cracked his whip at Archibald, screaming at him to get up and get going. He scurried away as quickly as he could, but was still whipped on the behind before he made his way out.

He rubbed his rump, mumbling something about Lord Hugo, something he'd never say aloud. Lord Hugo is a tyrant. A horrible, slobbering...

He cleared his throat. A gentleman doesn't speak in such ways. He continued down the hallway, to the kitchens, with what composure he could muster.

He had served knights, lords, princes, kings-even an emperor once-but he had never come across anyone so vile as Lord Hugo. He had no surname; supposedly he was a bastard (though he cut off the tongue of anyone who mentioned anything about it). He had gone through fourteen wives, one after the other bearing him only daughters. He had had his wives slain, as well as all the baby girls he had.

Archibald cringed, remembering the night. He had seen many horrors in his fifty years, but none such as what he witnessed that night. Lord Hugo had born to him over thirty girls, some as old as twelve, some as young as a freshly born baby.

Lord Hugo was told by a foreign priest of sorts that he was cursed with daughters, for his foul doings. He said they lived to remind him that the gods hated him. That had been enough for Lord Hugo. He had the priest hung onto the rafters of his great hall and, gathering his family, made the priest watch as he and his men murdered all of them.

Archibald had been there. He loved them all more than Hugo could love anything. Ever. He almost hated the priest, though he couldn't have known. Besides, if not the priest, then some king would've mocked him.

It was his fifteenth wife he was on now. A hob-elf from some forest in the far east. She had long green hair, pointed ears and firmer breasts than Archibald had ever seen. She is... she is a sort of...

"Slut?" The cloaked creature quickly shifted out of the darkness, a reptilian smile creeping on its face, long and wide.

"Sissis. What do you want?" Archibald asked, angered. He could read minds, but he wasn't permitted to do so. If he was caught doing it, Hugo would have his head.

"Hugo couldn't have my head if a god gave it to him. It would slip from his greasy palms, into the gutter." Sissis laughed. It had been a reoccurring joke around the castle (albeit a very quiet one) that Lord Hugo was as unlucky as a black cat. He was, Archibald agreed, but he was also crueler than any devil. Who needs luck when you have arms as thick as a baby foal's torso?

"Where are you going?" Sissis hissed.

"To fetch beer for m'lord Hugo." He kept walking, despite the lizard's attempts to get in his way.

"Come, Archibald, leave this place. Come with me." Sissis pleaded. "I like you Archibald, you are a good man. Come with me east, to strange lands made of candy and great heroes and adventure. Leave this horrible place."

Archibald ignored him. Many of the villagers who lived on the outside the castle were good friends of his. They would be slain in a heartbeat, if he left, just to spite him. Not to mention he was bound by oath to serve whoever held Caste Ironfist.

"Fine then," Sissis said sadly. "I will return again in a month. Do not die before then. I intend to bring an army of sellswords along with me, so we may take Ironfist Keep from the demon Hugo." He crept away, back into the shadows. Archibald sighed.

He made his way to the kitchen, people bustling all about.

Archibald remembered what his old candy friend had said once. "Be glad you are born a peppermint man, Archie. Creatures in these lands hate the taste of peppermint."

The thought of old friends saddened Archibald and the thoughts burned inside his mind, aching. There had been a winter when the soldiers had taken pieces of Archibald to keep a from starving. They had been under siege by foreigners for over two weeks and everyone was starving.

They had stared at Archibald with hungry eyes.


	3. Pool I

POOL

He looked down at the creature before his feet, it's eyes glued to his feet.

"Can my feet talk, peasant?" Pool demanded. "Hmm? My feet must be pretty interesting to keep your attention so."

The peasant made a nasal whimpering sound when he spoke. "Ehh, no m'lord. I-I h-h-had a-"

Pool interrupted him. "You are still staring at my feet, peasant. Look into my eyes."

The peasant looked up slowly, until his eyes met with Pool's. They were blue grey, and not kind at all.

"Now tell me, peasant, what is this message you have?"

"There are pirates, m-m'lord. All along the coast they are. Master of Underhold sent me, he did. Told me to tell you they are stealin' all the food."

Pool sat for a moment and thought. The 'pirates' had been a plague to him for several years now, though he wouldn't call them pirates, no. He had been to war in a foreign land filled to the brim with jungles and pirates. Pirates from the jungle wore eyepatches, danced and sang songs. Pirates from this hellhole do nothing but frown and silently scowl.

"What would Lord Hullander have me do about it?"

"S-send men to scare them off, m'lord."

"Send men?" Lord Hullander had not been seen anywhere near the capital in months. Pool blamed it on the fact he had lost his daughter to a duel with a lower lords son. She was to be wed off to some low family, live the rest of her days away from her father, bear children whose names will never be known by anyone. Such a sad fate, thought Pool, smirking to himself.

He was reminded of his conversation with the peasant when someone in the court abruptly coughed. "Why should I?" He continued. "Lord Hullander hasn't attended court in over four months. Explain."

"Me? I haven't a clue m'lordship. I-I'm only here to deliver a-"

Pool stood up, his head throbbing. "Sylas, take over for me, I need to rest."

"As you bid, my Lord." Salas said merrily.

Pool made his way up the stairs, into his room. A servant waited by his door and began to open it when he went up to it.

"I can open the damn door myself, boy." He grumbled, pulling the door open.

The door shut behind him and he walked over to his balcony, staring outside. Disgusting, thought Ppol. What a waste I command. All he could see for miles was hoarse rock and mold, as well as a scrappy house here and there. Directly below his balcony he could see house after house stacked against Castle Hardwind.

The world was broken here, most knew. Few wanted land here, and even fewer wanted to rule any.

Pool rubbed his grayish skin against the stone, an itch running up his arm. My skin is grey and dead, just like this land.

He walked over to his bed and fell into it, exhausted. It had been a long year past. The spring had been cold, the summer fruitless. In the fall a disease struck, and the frigid winter didn't help. Now it was spring again and the weather had been warmer, but Pool was not so hopeful.

He stood up, shuffling his way to his bathroom. He looked into the mirror there. His hair was long and whispy and silver. His eyes were faded, his skin grey. They must think I'm a zombie, the way I look.

"A zombie king, for a wasteland. Poetic, isn't it Jeeves?" Pool turned to the doorway, a small cake dressed in a tuxedo standing there.

"Yes, sire. Indeed." Pool had found him wandering around a shipwreck near the Red Coast, several winters before last. Supposedly he was from a land to the east where candy talked and heroes wandered.

His master of the kitchens had suggested that since he could regenerate, they could skin him weekly for food over the winter. Pool wouldn't hear of it, though he still feels them eyeing Jeeves to this day.

Pool waved him into his bathroom, and Jeeves ran him a bath. The cakeling was an expert in the art of oils and soaps. Pool dismissed him, shutting the door.

He sat in his bath, and thought, pondering on the future of Castle Hardwind. First things first, he decided. The pirates must be removed before they cause my food ships any trouble.

He reached for a cloth the scrub his face, but instead found a leg. He flung back startled, and standing up, he cried "Who the-"

"My grace." A woman in black leather purred. "I am Mila."

Pool covered himself, blushing. "What are you doing in my bathroom?" He asked as casually as he could muster.

"I'm here to kill you." She said pulling back her cloak, revealing a sheathed dagger.

"Well I know that. But why my bathroom? Why not somewhere else?"

She smiled, staying silent.

"Naughty, aren't you little girl?" That made her mad.

"I am not a little girl," She said it calmly enough, but her breathing gave her away. "I am Mila, of house-"

"I don't care who's house you're from," Pool grinned. "Just get it done and over with if you would."

"Fine. Say your last words, king of the wastes."

"You're very beautiful." He smiled. That startled her, but not for long. She unsheathed her dagger, and lunged at him. He dodged it swiftly and, moving behind her, slapped her thigh.

"You have nice legs," He laughed "Do you have a boyfriend?"

She was angry now. "Shut your mouth, man-pig!" She lunged again, and this time he slapped her butt when he dodged. She let out a little shout when he did.

"Damn you!" She growled. "You are sad if you think you would ever have a chance with me."

"I'm just glad to have you here, my lady." More glad he had increased his bathroom's size last summer. He would've never of been able to dodge her in what it was previously.

"Not a mutual feeling," She said, annoyed, as she lunged at him once more. Her knife barley nicked his belly, reminding he was completely naked in front of a woman with a knife.

"I should tell you about the last time I was in a bathroom with a woman."

"No, you truly shouldn't."

"She had a knife too, nearly cut my balls off-"

"Enough!" She stabbed at him again, cutting his upper chest wide open. He cried out in pain and held himself, wrapping both his arms around. Dark red blood spilled onto the tile floor, splattering everywhere. He looked up at her, and she gave him a look up triumph.

"Good riddance, waste-lord." She said, raising her dagger above her head. He began to laugh, loudly, rasping.

"Stop that." She demanded. "Stop laughing." He fell onto his knees, still laughing.

"STOP LAUGHING!" She screamed.

He stopped laughing, and wiped a tear from his eye. "I-I'm sorry it's just that... it tickled."

He stood up quickly, tackling her down. She hit the floor, her head smashing into the tile. He sat on top of her, pinning her arms to the ground..

"Beg forgiveness." He said quietly. "Now."

She squirmed. "Never." He punched her in the face, making a cut open in her forehead.

"Beg forgiveness."

"No." He did it again, this time making sure to hit her mouth.

"Beg. Forgiveness."

"You hit like a girl."

"I am now. Do you want me to hit like a man instead?"

She struggled, trying to get her arms out from under his legs. "You couldn't if you wanted to." She spat at him.

He smashed a fist down onto her face as hard as he could, knocking her out.

"Well now that that's over with, I can finish my-"

He didn't remember being hit, or waking up for that matter. He looked around his bed, the doctors all staring at him intently.

"My lord you have received a blow to the head, quite hard by the looks of it." The doctor said.

Pool sat up. His head didn't throb. He touched his forehead and moved his fingers along the surface.

"M-my lord! It is an open wound, it-"

Pool held his other hand up, silencing him while his other hand still moved along his scalp, preening for wounds.

"Aha!" Blackwood gasped, tearing out a small shard of glass out of his head. "I knew I felt something."


End file.
